


Wild creatures create wild magic - whether you believe in magic or not

by pixiedurango



Series: Richard Armitage - Sensual Visual Prompts [21]
Category: Guy of Gisborne - Fandom, Richard Armitage - Fandom, Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Chance Meetings, F/M, Flirting, Mild Sexual Content, One Night Stands, Seduction, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 18:31:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17229044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiedurango/pseuds/pixiedurango
Summary: Guy of Gisborne is not amused to have been forced to King John's court and things are not going as smooth as he would wish they'd go. The wish to drown his worries at a random tavern however leads to a surprising encounter. Set at the beginning of season 3 during the time Guy is not in Sherwood after being sent away by the Sheriff of Nottingham.





	Wild creatures create wild magic - whether you believe in magic or not

**Author's Note:**

> This belongs to a collection of prompts I opened up for my followers on tumblr to choose a character portrayed by Richard Armitage and a collection of sensual/sexy gifs I put together merely for this purpose.  
> After the tumblr purge many of the stories got banned/deleted/hidden which I assume due to the nature of the gifs since the stories itself are rarely really explicit.  
> This is why I eventually decided to transfer my works to my Ao3 which I didn't do for the sheer number of Fandoms/Shows/Characters those stories belong to. My admiration for Richard Armitage let me write all those stories and I hope people will like it.  
> The gifs will be posted along with the stories so readers might decide whether I caught the spirit or not.

Guy had been furious when the sheriff had sent him to John’s court to explain personally the latest failure of their troops against Robin Hood. But what clearly had meant to be a humiliation and punishment, soon turned out to be a whole new world of possibilities to him and his ultimate goal: Regaining what was rightfully his and yet still lost. A good name and all the amenities that came with it: Land, a title, wealth, power. A chance to finally take revenge on Robin Hood.

Rising into favor of the mighty Prince John, who was, in Guy’s opinion, an infantile idiot with a God-complex was a dangerous game but Guy of Gisborne was certain he could handle the annoying prince perfectly and use His Majesty’s power (and weaknesses as Guy had spotted already half a dozen of them) to turn the tides to his favor in Sherwood by charming some men and weapons out of the man.

Negotiating with John was like playing chess with a madman. Which, he more and more was convinced, was probably closer to truth than for everyone’s good. The prince was even madder than the sheriff but Guy truly believed he was able to bring both of them down with his wits alone. And if he acted just clever enough he’d let the two of them engage in their own mind brawls with each other to leave him be. Doing what he needed to do be doing to find peace.

Things went very well so far and therefor he was in a grimly good mood when he strolled the nightly streets looking for distraction.

A mood that called for mead and women. The kind of cheap distraction that kept his mind from wandering back to he holy land and the events that had spiraled his whole existence into eternal darkness and constant terror. A distraction that would leave him in a numb stupor and lure him into a world where nothing was lost and the hope and promise of a better future was still alive.

But none of the girls available along the way or in the taverns really piqued his interest. He tried to convince himself that it did not matter whether they were blond or red or dark, tiny or tall, round or skinny, pale or dark skinned. As long as they did not look like  _her -_ hole was hole.

But he finally had to come to the point to admit to himself that it  _did_  matter.

Guy of Gisborne finally was about ready to accept that there would be no other woman for him and that he’d probably would end up as always when it got to this point: Drunken enough to no mind his own hand on himself. It did not matter. None of it. That it was about the saddest state of being and even more because it was his own doing that had him end up like that. Still hoping he could cleanse his mind by just drinking enough.

“My my, what do we have here?” A soft voice startled him from brooding. He even seemed to lack the memory how he’d gotten into this tavern, finding a sole space in a very dark corner, away from the loud turmoil of a regular bar night. He looked up with tired eyes from the tankard he was clenching with two hands.

She was tall for a woman, almost as tall as he was but had the ethereal appearance of an outer-worldly creature. A fairie maybe or an elf. Delicate and fragile, milk-like skin and freckled all over. A broad jaw much more suited to a lad and strong full brows framed a full soft and promising mouth. Nothing seemed to fit but all together her face was unforgettable and alluring. Her reddish hair was loosely braided, swinging down her back and ended about where her knees would be, hidden under a simple but clean skirt. Big eyes of a gray so light that it seemed almost colorless inspected him with a slight smirk of cheeky disapproval.   
  
“Sod off, lass! I’m not in the mood.” Guy growled back, but he could not meet her eyes when he said the lie. Instead he grabbed for his tankard and emptied it in a long gulp. If he thought that would be enough to have the bird fly off he was mistaken. She stood there, unwilling to move a bloody inch, never taking her strange eyes from him. One of her hands rested on her hip and the movement bore so much mocking disapproval it almost hurt him physically.

“Bad day, Sir Knight?” She asked and he could hear the sarcasm drop from the seemingly caring words.

He could not drag his eyes from the hand on her hip. Delicate, long fingers, strong joints and all in a sudden visions of what those hands could do to him.

“None of your concern, missy. I won’t repeat it a third time: Sod off!”

“Well, Sir Knight, technically this is  _my_  place, so in that matter I am actually the person to tell who’s sodding off and who won’t. I know you won’t leave but neither will I. You better get accustomed to the facts. ” She gave him a long disapproving look, before she turned around and went back behind the bar, where an elderly man was filling tankards. She obviously had inherited most of her features from her father and now that Guy cared to look closer to what was surrounding him, it was easy to recognize.   
  
His first impulse was to change the tavern but then his eyes stayed glued to her as she worked her shift away. She had been right, he would not leave. The realization startled him but he pushed away any concern.   
Occasionally she was changing his empty tankard for a new one but not saying another word to him as he crouched in his dark corner, feeling like a creep watching every single of her movements.

Guy didn’t even noticed when last call came and went and suddenly he found the tavern all empty and oddly quiet, the odd slender woman just shooing her father upstairs to rest, promising she would do the clean up and lock down for tonight.

“See, no one had to sod off and here we are.” Her hips were swaying in a soft wave as she walked towards him. Guy felt like hypnotized as one of her hands came closer and her fingers trailed gently across his collar bone, sending sparks of electricity through his body. He barely noticed  that his heavy leather jacket had been gone, hanging over the backrest of the old chair he was sitting on. He couldn’t even remember when he might have put it off. The laces of his black shirt hung open and he tried to remember when that happened, too. Usually Guy of Gisborne would not show himself in such a deranged state in public. Especially not here at court where gossip traveled fast and he had a face to lose in his negotiations with the mad prince.

“Vixen!” His voice barely was recognizable. “You bewitched me! Put me something in my mead!” Guy tried to get up but her gentle touch kept him in place sending more shivers up and down his spine.

Her laughter was soft and sounded like chimes and distant bells.  
“I did no such thing, Sir Knight. I just wished for you would stay a bit longer and so you did.” A delicate finger trailed down where the shirt’s open laces revealed a V of his now burning skin and a shiver went through him, fearing she would hear the roar that was his quickened pulse and raging heartbeat. He was certain that he was under some kind of spell and he had a serious inner struggle with whether he wanted to flee or stay.

The hunger for a gentle touch he so desperately craved for, won.

“Guy.” He breathed. He wanted her to say his name instead of a faceless filler that could have been anyone. “Sir Guy… Of Gisborne.” He added and felt like an idiot not being able to speak straight anymore.

“Call me Fiona.” She finally smiled and he felt like he had been lured into a trap. Remembering what his mother said to him and his sister whenever telling them one of her fairie tales: To never tell a fae creature their name for it would give the creature dangerous power.

But the power she was now taking over him, was more then welcome. Continuing with her caresses, she made him feel wanted. Desired. Worthy.

“Fiona… what are you doing?” He hoarsely breathed, still not reaching out to grab for her. Neither to stop her nor to engage in the play she obviously was up to.

“What you are craving for.” She simply replied and finally held out a hand for him to hold, pulling him from his seat. Inviting him to follow her. Not upstairs into he room but into the stables where the nightly noises of the sleepy horses and the warm comfort of freshly stocked hay was waiting for them with its alluring scents to give them a secret and intimate space to continue the night. She pulled him down with her and Guy followed with no objections.

When had been the last time to have an adventure in a hay stack? Sweet memories of girls he had known ages ago, before everything had gone down the gutter and leaving his life shattered and almost all hope lost. It was warm and good memories. Playful and sweet. He had been no more than a boy then. Times when everything had been easy and life was good.

Fiona was was plenty of everything and never enough.  
Soft and gentle, then again wild and passionate. Taking charge and leaving him the reins… Guy forgot who and where he was and let himself be washed away from the love she gave so freely where there was no reason to. What had started as an almost wordless, passionate encounter in a stable ended in hours of love making in every kind and constellation he could think of. They laughed and cried together and he wondered why he would let a stranger see his tears but he soon stopped wondering when she took him yet to another round of pleasures and comfort.

They fell asleep when dawn was near and when the roosters began their morning calls he woke up alone.

Guy’s head was aching with what was about the worst hangover he has ever had and his peaceful mood almost turned immediately into a raging, scared anger when he reached around him, finding nothing but his discarded clothes and no sign of the woman… witch… fae… who’d lured him into what he was sure would be his downfall and end.

“There you are! Happy and awake.” A soft smiling voice startled him while he was jumping into his breeches and he fell over, back into the hay. “I thought you might want something for breakfast.”

Fiona carried a tray with a jar of steaming hot milk, fresh bread and a bowl of honey which she now placed between them.  
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She giggled and leaned over to peck a sweet kiss on his baffled, speechless lips.

Guy relaxed but still had his trouble to hide just how scared he had been for a moment.   
“Not a ghost, no… But maybe a fairie who lured me to the other side.” He forced a smile on his face, not knowing why he even bothered to say that. She was a tavern girl and nothing more.

She looked at him with a enigmatic smile.  
“You know how silly that is, do you?”

“Of course.”  
He slowly nodded and took a slow bite of the bread, remembering that eating offered food offered by a fae was probably even more dangerous than telling his name. Bu he continued to swallow the sweet treat she had brought him, more and more voraciously feasting on it like he had feasted on her during the night.

“Of course…” She agreed, still smiling like a sphinx and they continued their meal. Maybe she had not dragged him to the other world, but he knew he would return here every single night for as long as he had business at court and he would not mind if it took a very long time to settle things.

And each night when he would return to the tavern he would be afraid to not being able to find her anymore because she had left the human realms.


End file.
